The Garage Sale
by Consultant by Day
Summary: Alice's purchases have consumed all the storage space in the Cullen home, so she is forced to hold a garage sale.  Hilarity ensues as the whole family pitches in to help and the citizens of Forks descend.  Bella POV. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: All characters, etc., belong to Ms. Meyer. This holds for all chapters, though I am only writing it this once. Special thanks to the incomparable prettypinkbookworm for her great beta read of the entire story. This is for all of you who thought Morning Star was a roller coaster of angst... Enjoy.**

"Alice!" Esme's stern voice rang through the house. Edward cocked an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, this is going to be good. Come on." He reached a hand to me, pulling me to my feet and hustling me downstairs at vampire speed.

Esme stood in front of the hall closet, surrounded by a heap of clothing and bags. A few items had landed on top of Esme, too, making her look like some sort of bag lady. Alice shifted from foot to foot.

"You didn't have to let it land on you, Esme," Alice argued, her lips already forming into a pretty pout.

Esme picked filmy tank top out of her hair and fixed Alice with a firm stare. "I know, Alice, but I needed to make a point. Your shopping habit has gotten out of control." She turned the tank top over in her hand; the tags were still on it. "This is from over a year ago, Alice. You don't even wear the things you buy, and you are slowly taking over every available space in the house. The closets are becoming booby traps. I can't take it any more. You're going to have to take care of it. Now."

She crossed her arms and waited for Alice to say something.

A look of panic crossed Alice's face. "But what do you want me to do, Esme?"

Esme's face softened. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, Alice," she responded. "You'll have to come up with your own proposal. But whatever you decide, I want this mess – all your messes – cleaned up within a week." She plucked a bra off of her shoulder and, dangling it between her perfectly manicured fingers, dropped it to the floor. Then, she turned and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Alice stood in the middle of the heap and looked around her. "What am I going to do, Edward?" Her voice was plaintive.

"Can't you tell, Alice?" he snickered. I shot him in the side with my elbow, and then grimaced. I had hit my funny bone.

Alice stomped a foot. "Not funny," she growled under her breath.

"How about a garage sale?" I asked. Edward and Alice stared blankly at me.

"A garage sale? What's that?" Edward said, his curiosity plain.

"Oh, come on. You've lived for a hundred years and don't know what a garage sale is? How about a yard sale?" I asked, racking my brain for other terms they might have heard. "You don't remember ever driving around a neighborhood seeing signs for one of those?"

"Nope, it's not ringing a bell," Alice said, shaking her head.

I giggled. For as worldly as the Cullens were, they sure were naïve about a lot of things.

"Well," I began, "let me introduce you to how the other half lives. When _normal_ people get tired of their things, or need to make space in their houses, they hold a garage sale. They gather all the things they no longer need or want, put little stickers on them for prices, plaster the neighborhood with signs, and hope that people come and buy their junk from them. You get money, they get your stuff. It's a win-win."

Alice looked at me, her nose wrinkling with disgust. "Strangers come and pick over your things?"

I nodded. "Sometimes even people you know," I added solemnly.

"Oh, this is perfect!" Edward rubbed his hands together with delight. "You know everyone in Forks would want to come to our sale. The curiosity alone would be a big draw."

"Nooooo!" wailed Alice, but when a blank look flitted across her face, I knew she had seen her future, and it was a yard sale.

I chuckled. They had no idea what they were in for.


	2. Chapter 2

Mounds of clothing filled the family room. Shoes, purses, and jewelry were tucked into every available corner. Alice had begun to gather her things in preparation for the yard sale.

Emmett let out a low whistle of appreciation as he picked a path through the piles. "I've got to hand it to you, Jasper," he said. "I thought I was good at putting up with Rosalie's shopping, but this? This is phenomenal. Alice must be better in the sack than I thought," he chuckled.

Jasper shot Emmett a miserable look – he'd been absorbing Alice's grief over parting with her trophy purchases all week, and it was grating on his nerves. He was in no mood for Emmett's jokes.

Rosalie popped up from behind a pile. "What are you doing, thinking about how good Alice is at all?" she hissed.

Emmett laughed. "Don't worry, Rose. Idle chatter to get at Jasper. You know I only have eyes for you."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and went down behind a pile again.

"Hey!" she yelled. "What's this doing in here?" Her creamy arm shot up, holding a wad of fabric.

Jasper snatched it out of her hand. "Oh, looky here, my brother," he sang as he unfurled the fabric. "Looks like you've got some explaining to do."

Emmett looked uncomfortable. I peered over my pile to get a better look.

"What's that?" I asked, taking in the shiny black leather. It didn't look like anything Alice would have bought. It didn't even look like her size.

"That," whispered Edward in my ear, "is Rosalie's dominatrix outfit."

I felt my eyes grow wide as Edward began to chuckle. "I guess Emmett decided to clean out his closets, too."

Emmett's chest puffed up defensively. "You said that garage sales were good for getting rid of things people are tired of. I just thought…"

"You thought what?" shrieked Rosalie as she jumped over the pile. "What else did you throw into the piles behind my back?"

Alice, who'd been mysteriously quiet through this whole thing, suddenly chimed in, in a sing-songy voice. "Your French maid outfit. And Wonder Woman."

"Argh! Emmett, I'm going to kill you!" Rosalie snarled. Emmett took off in a flash. Rosalie was right behind him, not even pausing when she yelled over her shoulder, "And don't you expect me to move my car out of the garage to make room for your stupid sale, Alice."

Edward winked at me. "Just an excuse for them to make up," he said, grinning at me as he took in my red cheeks.

"I… umm. Yes. Well, I'm not sure that fantasy wear is really the best thing for a garage sale, but, umm…. Anyway, back to sorting," I mumbled, trying not to think about whatever it was that Emmett had not yet grown bored with.


	3. Chapter 3

"Fifty cents? Are you insane, Bella?"

I sighed and let the sweater fall in my lap. Five hours had passed since we'd started pricing the garage sale items. So far, I'd managed to get through 50 things. Hundreds remained.

"What would you like to price it as, Alice?"

She snatched it from me and looked longingly at it, stroking the fuzzy yarns. "How can you put a price on virgin mohair, Bella? It's never been worn…and it's vintage. Three hundred dollars."

"Alice," I whined, crossing my arms. "No one is going to pay three hundred dollars for something at a garage sale." I turned to Edward. "Some help, please?"

Edward uncrossed his legs and rubbed his eyes. Even he was worn out by Alice's hard-headedness.

"I'll personally fund your next shopping expedition if you let _me_ price your clothes." His arm became a blur and then a black credit card danced across his fingertips, taunting Alice. "But you need to decide in the next ten seconds or the deal is off."

"Terms?" Alice asked, holding her breath.

"No re-pricing. No buying your own things. No changing the price at checkout. And no brow-beating customers. Five seconds left." The shiny card spun a perfect arc on Edward's fingertip.

"Deal!" she squealed, dancing across the room and snatching the card from Edward's hand. Then she ran from the room.

I exhaled, my shoulders sagging. "How are we ever going to price all of this?" I waved a listless hand at the piles. My back ached from sitting for so long and, truth be told, I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of stuff Alice had been able to dredge up.

"Explain the stickers to me again," he insisted, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he held his hand out.

I placed the sticker packs in his open palm. "Green dots for five dollars, red dots for one dollar, blue dots for fifty cents and yellow for a quarter." I crossed my arms and leaned back with a smirk. Sometimes his self-confidence was annoying.

"Oh ye of little faith," he murmured, and then he was a blur. I felt a flutter of wind rush past me. Pieces of clothing flew through the air.

I had forgotten about vampire speed. Oh, bliss!

The clothing continued to fly, tracing graceful arabesques through the family room. As I watched with admiration, something solid fell against me, pushing me back onto a mound of red, white, and blue-themed clothing from 1976.

Edward's cold, hard body hovered over me. He lightly held my hands above my head, pinning me down.

I grinned up into his sparkling eyes. "You have my undying gratitude for getting me out of stickie hell. And for clearing Alice out of here. I don't think I could take the guilt any more."

"Undying gratitude, eh?" he murmured against my ear. A shudder of pleasure ran down my spine. "Did I earn a special thank you?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked breathlessly.

"Something off the one dollar pile," he chuckled.

I blushed, images of Wonder Woman's magic lasso jumping unbidden to my mind. "Not on your life!" I shouted, rolling away to leave him laughing in a pile of Forenza sweaters from 1985.


	4. Chapter 4

The day of the sale had arrived. Alice had predicted a nice, cloudy day. We'd done our best to spread the word – Edward and Emmett had even stuck a neon flyer on every locker in Forks High. Esme, pleased with Alice's willingness to rise to the challenge, had mixed up pitchers of lemonade for the thirsty shoppers she expected. The garage sale had turned into a regular family affair – for everyone except Rosalie, that is.

"I refuse to sit by and watch while you let those humans finger your things, Alice. It's degrading," she'd sniffed, tossing her perfectly curled hair and disappearing upstairs.

"She's still mad about the costumes," snickered Edward.

"I heard that!" Rosalie yelled from her room.

Carlisle had convinced his friends at the Rotary Club to lend him the tables they used for their annual pancake breakfast. We laid Alice's clothing out on the tables in neat, long aisles lining the driveway. Alice had insisted we lay it out not by size, nor type of clothing, but in outfits.

"It's important to properly accessorize," she sniffed, holding a pair of two-inch wide, neon pink button earrings up against a spandex tube dress. "I couldn't live with myself if I contributed to the commitment of more Fashion Don'ts by the good citizens of Forks."

The really precious stuff – the five dollar items – was tucked inside the part of the garage we'd been able to clear. Rosalie's red convertible still stood in its stall; a fiercely scrawled sign reading "Not for sale" was taped to its windshield.

Trivial images from the impending sale had peppered Alice's brain all night. Every few minutes, she had another question for me, the supposed Human Expert of All Things Garage Sale.

"What if someone…_unsuitable_ wants to buy one of my things?" she'd asked, a look of misery disturbing her angelic features.

"Even ugly people have the right to buy Armani, Alice," I said, reaching deep to find some sympathy. "You don't want to hurt their feelings, do you?"

Her lower lip quivered.

"Do you see lots of 'unsuitable people' coming to the sale?" I asked with curiosity.

She nodded.

"Well," I said with a grin, "that means we'll sell lots of things, so you should be glad."

She scowled. I knew her mind was full of memories of each special purchase. Each piece of clothing was almost like a child to her; each had its own story. She was so attached to her shopping successes that I supposed it had something to do with compensating for her lack of human memories. I watched as she gracefully folded herself into a lawn chair, preparing herself for her fate.

Some thought skittered across her brain and her face brightened.

"What if no one buys anything?"

I raised an eyebrow. This was not an idle question. Alice regularly indulged in some rather fashion-forward shopping. She had things in these piles that looked more like origami than clothing.

"Usually you'd donate it to Goodwill or a shelter," I answered, watching for her reaction.

She ignored me, running to Esme. "Esme, may I keep anything that doesn't sell?"

"Of course," Esme said indulgently, and I groaned inwardly. Alice threw her arms around her mother with delight. Esme smoothed Alice's hair away from her porcelain brow, oblivious to the tiny loophole she'd just created for Alice.

By eight a.m. people started trickling in.

"These are the early birds," I whispered, leaning close to Edward's ear. "They are the real deal. Just watch."

A leathery-looking woman with sparse gray hair walked up and down the tables. Her hands trailed across the clothes, feeling for quality. She looked at the stickers and did a double-take. Her eyes kept growing bigger and bigger. When she saw the table filled with nothing but pristine camping gear, she stumbled in shock. Carlisle, who'd been sitting behind the small cash box, jumped to his feet.

The woman looked wildly about her.

"Ma'am, are you all right? Do you need to sit down?" Carlisle lightly touched her arm and she looked up. She almost stumbled again as she took in his handsome face.

"Young man," she said, "are you in charge here?"

"I suppose I am, ma'am," Carlisle answered.

Edward began to snicker. The woman instantly got over her frailty and shifted into full bargaining mode. She batted her nonexistent eyelashes and beamed at Carlisle, clutching his arm to her matronly bosom. She had something green stuck in her teeth. Carlisle smile froze and a look of discomfort crept into his eyes. He shot Esme a frantic glance, but she just smiled with encouragement.

"I have one hundred whole dollars on me at this very minute," the woman confided, leaning even closer toward Carlisle. "I am prepared to offer you the entire sum in exchange for that table of camping gear…and the pile of puffy coats in the corner."

Carlisle grinned. He opened his mouth to accept her offer when I began coughing violently. "Bar…gain. Hag..gle."

He stopped short, and then smiled an even wider smile. "I'm afraid I can't do that ma'am. We've priced our items very generously and even with those low, low prices, the table of camping gear alone is worth at least $250."

The woman's eyes narrowed. Her grip on Carlisle was like a vice. She was so focused on getting her deal that not even his dazzling smile or good looks were able to distract her.

"$200 for the lot, dearie. What do you say for a poor old lady?"

Carlisle laughed out loud. "Deal," he agreed. From behind the garage, we heard Alice's plaintive cry: "Nooooooooo!"

Carlisle turned as if to walk to the cash box but the woman grabbed his arm. "No need for that; I've got exact change."

She began unbuttoning her shirt. With one claw-like hand, she reached into her massive bosom and began fishing around. Edward stifled a gag as she fished a fistful of money out of her bra.

Carlisle stood before her, stunned, as she began counting it out into his palm.

"Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty," she said, smoothing each bill carefully in his outstretched hand. "One hundred, one-fifty, and two-hundred."

"Ugh, it's _warm_," mumbled Edward, apparently unable to shut out Carlisle's thoughts.

"Pleasure doing business with you, dearie," the woman said, leaving Carlisle with a wink. She walked away, pulling plastic bags from about her body, ready to take away her garage sale booty.

Carlisle shuddered. He began walking rapidly toward the front porch. As he walked by us, he thrust the money at Edward, who flinched, letting it fall to the ground.

"You're in charge, Edward," he mumbled, fleeing to the house to hide.

Thus we passed the first hour of the Great Cullen Garage Sale.


	5. Chapter 5

I looked at my watch. We'd been at the garage sale for hours, but it was not going well.

We'd had plenty of traffic. Half the school seemed to show up, and plenty of townspeople, as well. Everyone looked, everyone fingered and ogled the pristine merchandise, but nobody tried anything on and almost nobody had made a purchase.

I sat with Edward, leaning my head against his marble shoulder, watching Jessica and Lauren off in a corner.

"They've been looking at those jeans for twenty minutes," I complained, annoyed at their giggling.

"They don't want to admit that they can't fit in them," Edward muttered. "They're busy convincing themselves it is not possible that all of these things are real. They're concocting some story about our family being brand counterfeiters."

I rolled my eyes.

I straightened up as I saw Jessica sauntering toward me.

"Hey, Bella." She was studiously avoiding Edward's gaze.

"Hey, Jess. What's up?"

"Umm. I was wondering?" She was using her annoying up-talk voice. "Are all those Prada backpacks real Prada? Or fakes?"

"Uh, I don't know which ones you're talking about but everything here is real."

"Are you sure?" She asked, cocking one eyebrow skeptically. "Lauren, show Bella the Prada backpack."

Lauren pouted. She did not like being told what to do by Jessica. She took her time walking toward us, being sure to look disdainfully at all the other shoppers.

She thrust a teeny black bag at me.

I was confused. "That's not much of a backpack, is it? I mean, you couldn't even carry a text book in it." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward trying to hide a smile behind his hand.

Lauren snickered and Jessica rolled her eyes.

"It's not for school, Bella. But forget about that, is it real?" Jessica placed one hand on her hip, waiting for my answer.

A white hand snaked out and snatched the bag from Lauren's grasp.

"Of course it's real," sniffed Alice, holding the bag to her body. "But it's not for sale," she declared, floating away.

"Alice…" Edward called after her, a warning in his voice.

"Deal's off, Edward," she retorted over her shoulder, sticking out her tongue for good measure.

Lauren and Jessica huffed away. Edward threw up his hands in frustration.

"This is going nowhere. You know that Jasper has been sending bad emotions out here?"

"What?" I asked, startled.

"He's scaring away the shoppers, or making them too depressed to shop, or making them embarrassed to buy at a garage sale. Anything to keep them from buying. He isn't doing it constantly, just every once in a while, when it gets really busy. Anything to keep Alice happy."

"Oh, brother," I said, remembering Esme's promise that Alice could keep whatever didn't sell.

"I've got an idea," I said, wondering if I dared to do what I was about to suggest.

"I'm all ears."

I leaned close to Edward and whispered in his ear. He didn't say anything. I pulled away from him to scan his expression, worried that I'd gone too far.

His eyes sparkled with delight. "Did I ever tell you how much I love your mind?" He smiled my favorite crooked grin and my stomach did a little flip.

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want anyone to…"

He laid an icy finger across my lips. "Don't even think of it. It's brilliant. We just need to get a crowd here again…."

We huddled together, coming up with our plan.

"I'm going on a fast food run for Bella," Edward said casually to no one in particular. No one noticed the markers and paper he shoved into the passenger seat of his Volvo before he climbed in. He carefully threaded his car through the tables and idle browsers in the driveway and was gone.

I made a slow circuit through all the tables, ending inside the garage. Things were relatively untouched in here. Most of the attention had been on Rosalie's BMW. It still bore the sign, "Not for Sale."

I surreptitiously pulled the sign off, crumpling it in a wad and throwing it in a dark corner.

Edward was back within the hour. We waited for twenty more minutes, hoping our plan would work. We perked up when we noticed a flood of new shoppers hurrying down the driveway. They didn't hesitate to buy this time. In fact, they were falling all over themselves to grab clothes by the handful and make their way to the cash box to pay. The crowd was buzzing. Edward and I rapidly made change, writing out little tickets for every five dollars spent. The line to pay became five deep. The crowd would periodically surge as people tried to push their way to the front. The tables in the driveway were nearly empty. Carlisle and Esme began to look confused.

Then Jasper and Alice popped their heads around the corner.

"You aren't," Alice said accusingly.

"Oh, yes, we are." Edward said smugly. "You've forced our hand."

"Bella!" Alice turned her angelic face to mine, pleading for intervention.

"It was my idea, Alice," I answered. Her face fell.

Jasper laughed. "Pure evil, Bella. Well done. I hope you've come up with as good of a plan to protect yourself afterward!"

I gulped. Surely, it wouldn't be that bad? I didn't have time to wonder, though, for at 3:00 on the dot, Edward cleared his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as promised, we will now begin the raffle for the mint condition red BMW M3 convertible! If you haven't had the opportunity to look at this beautiful specimen, it is parked right behind me in this garage. And remember, all proceeds go to charity."

He gestured grandly and the crowd surged again.

"You have a ticket for each $5 purchase. My beautiful assistant" – he grinned at me – "has the matching ticket stubs, which she will now place in this box for the drawing. Miss Swan, please mix them well. We don't want anyone to accuse us of cheating."

I dumped all my handmade stubs into the box with a flourish.

I thought I heard Carlisle say something, but the buzz of the crowd was too loud; I couldn't make it out.

Edward shot a look over his shoulder. When he turned back to me, he looked a bit anxious.

"Miss Swan, the winning ticket please!"

I reached into the box and stirred the tickets around. I pulled one out and held it high in the air.

"Number 67! 67 is the winning ticket!"

A chorus of disappointed sighs filled the air. Then, a voice called out excitedly. "That's me! That's me! I won, let me through!"

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and there, standing before me waving his ticket around, was Mike Newton.

I groaned.

"Bella! Bella! This is so sweet! I won the convertible. Maybe I can take you for the first spin!"

Edward thrust the keys at Mike, looking over his shoulder again. "She's already been in it, Newton. I'd take your car and get out of here. The crowd seems a little…jealous."

Mike winked conspiratorially at Edward. "Right, Cullen, right. Don't want to rub it in, do I? Thanks, man. Cool garage sale. See ya, Bella."

He pushed past the table into the garage. The crowd was already dispersing, headed down the driveway with their purchases.

We heard the purr of the engine as Mike started the car. It was quickly followed by a bang and crash.

"Get it out of reverse, stupid," Edward muttered. "What a waste."

The gears ground out a complaint and I winced. Mike edged the car out of the garage.

"Bye, Bella!" he said, hanging excitedly out of the window.

"Eyes on the road, Newton," Edward said, his jaw tense.

As the last people trailed down the driveway after the red convertible and disappeared beyond the trees, I heard the sounds of Emmett's laughter, mixed with howls of rage.

"I am going to make you pay for this, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen!" Rosalie shrieked.

Emmett tried to drown her out with his own call from inside the house. "You better run for it, bro. I don't think I can hold her back much longer!"

Edward and I grinned. "Climb on board, Miss Swan," he said, offering me his back.

"I'm glad you're the fast one," I said as I wrapped my arms around him.

"Me too," he laughed as we headed for the trees.


End file.
